The Capitalist Epiphany
Malesh slowly stood back up, his eyes burning. He looked at Silvisa dangling in the air. He prepared to charge again, but suddenly, his cold, highly analytical brain completely detached from his emotions.
He paused, going into a state of deep, philosophical thought.
Wait a minute, Malesh's internal monologue reasoned smoothly. I am a capitalist. The core foundation of my ideology is that all people in front of me are just units. They are simply numerical values and statistical data points on a spreadsheet. They do not have any profound meaning to my life. If I leave her empty-handed right now, and if I don't help her, it would be absolutely okay. Because she is just a number. A Production Head can be easily replaced by HR tomorrow morning. I should logically retreat.
Malesh nodded to himself, perfectly satisfied with his ruthless corporate sociopathy.
But then, he froze.
His eyes widened in sudden, horrifying realization.
"Wait a second," Malesh muttered out loud, completely stunned. "I am literally copying the exact same internal monologue from the hero in Kniya's novel."
He remembered reading the summary on the back of The Fart Land City. The "hero" of the book wasn't a noble knight; he was a ruthless capitalist industrialist who exclusively exploited all the natural resources in the fantasy world to build factories. And the only reason the monsters constantly attacked the hero was because he was aggressively polluting their magical forests for profit.
"Oh, shit," Malesh whispered. "I am the villain of the paperback."
The Narrator's Intervention
Okay, let's be completely honest for a second.
If you really step back and look at the actual context of this specific scenario... the monsters are actually the good guys here. Think about it. Malesh and Kniya are literally multi-trillionaire corporate warlords who casually destroy entire countrysides, pollute the atmosphere, violently monopolize global industries, and treat human beings like disposable mathematical spreadsheets.
This monster didn't attack them for no reason. It attacked them because Kniya's local steel factories and Malesh's oil refineries are probably actively destroying the Fart Land City's natural ecosystem.
So yeah, the giant, sword-wielding demon that just crop-dusted the Managing Director of Malesh Energy? That is basically the medieval fantasy equivalent of an environmental activist. Anyway, back to the kidnapping.
The Tactical Dispute
The asphalt beneath Malesh's expensive shoes was still smoking from the toxic, neon-green flatulence. He had officially made his capitalist decision. The new Production Head was just a statistical variable. He was going to walk away, let HR handle the casualty report, and sue the monster for environmental damage.
Malesh slowly turned his back on the towering, twelve-foot demon.
In that exact millisecond, the air violently warped.
CLANG!
A deafening, ear-shattering ring of colliding steel echoed across the ruined highway. Malesh whipped his head back around.
Appearing literally out of nowhere, moving with a blinding, supernatural blur of speed, was a man. He wasn't wearing a tailored corporate suit or tactical DI'an body armor. He was wearing an incredibly detailed, completely impractical set of medieval clothes—heavy iron chainmail, a worn leather tunic, and a flowing, dramatically tattered cape. In his hands, he gripped a massive, brilliantly glowing broadsword.
The towering Fart Land monster had just swung its jagged, twelve-foot longsword directly at Malesh's unprotected back to slice him in half. But the medieval swordsman had charged in at the last possible microsecond, raising his own glowing blade and perfectly blocking the devastating strike.
Sparks violently showered over the asphalt as the two blades locked in a brutal struggle of strength.
Malesh stood completely frozen, staring at the armored cosplayer who had just saved his life. His incredibly logical brain completely short-circuited.
"What the fuck is happening right now?!" Malesh yelled, violently waving his arms in pure, unfiltered bewilderment. "What the fuck is even this?! Why is a fucking medieval swordsman defending me in the middle of a corporate highway?! This makes absolutely zero chronological sense! And why the fuck are you using a medieval weapon against a giant demon?! What the fuck is even happening right now?! You have zero ballistic capability!"
The monster roared, a terrifying, guttural sound that shook the shattered windows of the surrounding Seistain factories. Realizing it couldn't break the swordsman's block, the beast violently raised its other hand—the massive, leathery claw currently gripping the terrified, weeping employee, Silvisa.
The monster raised its jagged longsword high into the air, preparing to execute Silvisa right in the palm of its hand.
"Sir, please!!" Silvisa shrieked, squeezing her eyes shut.
"I am literally trying to explain to you that a sword is an incredibly outdated tool for self-defense!" Malesh continued to rant at the medieval guy, completely ignoring the imminent execution happening twelve feet above his head. "You are completely uneducated in modern warfare!"
The swordsman didn't reply. His eyes narrowed with lethal focus.
In a fraction of a second, the swordsman twisted his body, parried the monster's heavy blade, and swung his glowing broadsword upward in a flawless, lightning-fast arc.
SHHHHHK.
The blade sliced cleanly through the air with zero resistance. It effortlessly cut straight through the thick, muscular forearm of the giant monster.
The monster's severed hand—still tightly clutching Silvisa—instantly detached from its body.
But the swordsman's strike had been so incredibly swift, and the arc so incredibly wide, that the razor-sharp tip of the glowing blade completely bypassed the monster and swept dangerously close to Malesh's face.
Snip.
Malesh completely froze. He watched, absolutely horrified, as a perfectly styled, highly expensive lock of his own black hair fluttered gracefully down to the dirty asphalt.
The Romantic Reflex
"My premium haircut!" Malesh gasped, touching his newly trimmed fringe in pure disbelief.
High above them, the severed monster hand lost all its muscular grip. The thick claws went entirely slack, and Silvisa immediately began to plummet toward the unforgiving concrete of the highway.
The swordsman, currently locked in combat with the screaming, one-armed demon, aggressively jerked his head toward the falling woman, violently signaling for Malesh to catch her.
Malesh looked up at the falling employee. His petty, highly cynical internal monologue instantly activated.
What the fuck is this right now?! Malesh's brain screamed in absolute, unfiltered disgust. This is exactly like a fucking shit romance novel! This is the exact same, completely unoriginal, disgusting cliche scene that happens in cheap literature! A helpless woman falling from the sky, and the rich billionaire has to catch her?! I am absolutely not doing this! I do not want to catch her! I want her to hit the ground so I can file a workplace injury claim!
Malesh's brain explicitly ordered his body to step backward.
But incredibly, his reflexes completely betrayed him. Before he could even process his own movements, Malesh dashed forward, diving under the falling debris, and perfectly caught Silvisa in his arms in a flawless, deeply cinematic bridal carry.
The impact forced Malesh to stagger backward, the heavy weight of the catch straining his tailored suit, but he didn't drop her.
Silvisa, hyperventilating and completely terrified, slowly opened her eyes. She looked up and realized she was being held tightly in the strong, protective arms of the incredibly wealthy, deeply mysterious Managing Director of Malesh Energy.
Her face instantly flushed a violent, burning shade of crimson. She blushed with pure, overwhelming embarrassment, entirely unsure of what the fuck was happening or how she had ended up in such an intimate corporate position on her first day.
Malesh stared down at her blushing face. His deadpan expression twisted into a look of absolute, trapped horror.
What the fuck is happening?! Malesh panicked internally. I just want to drop her! I need to drop her right now! This is a massive HR violation! Drop the employee!
But he couldn't. His grip had subconsciously tightened around her, entirely locking his arms in place. He was completely paralyzed by the sheer awkwardness of the trope.
Desperate to deflect the incredibly uncomfortable romantic tension, Malesh whipped his head toward the swordsman, who was currently dodging another massive strike from the bleeding monster.
"You absolute fucking idiot!" Malesh yelled at the medieval knight, holding the blushing employee tightly against his chest. "You should be using a fucking gun instead of a fucking sword! A basic hollow-point bullet would have solved this entire logistical problem in two seconds!"
The swordsman violently ducked under a lethal swing, parried the jagged blade, and turned his head to glare furiously at the billionaire.
"This sword is fucking more expensive than your gun, you fucking corporate parasite!" the swordsman roared back, his voice echoing over the roar of the monster. "It was forged by the ancient gods! It costs more than your entire vehicular fleet! Shut the fuck up and hold the girl!"
The Corporate Metallurgy
Malesh stood perfectly still on the ruined highway, still awkwardly carrying the blushing, terrified Production Head in his arms. He glared coldly at the heavily armored, cosplaying knight who had just saved his life.
"I don't care how much it costs," Malesh deadpanned, entirely unbothered by the magical glowing broadsword. "Your fucking sword is absolutely not more powerful than my gun. You medieval idiots don't know the sheer, statistical power of gunpowder! You rely on outdated forging techniques. You will never know the kinetic efficiency of a hollow-point bullet!"
The swordsman scoffed, gripping his hilt as he stared down the bleeding, roaring monster. "Okay, corporate parasite. Let's see you try to fix this with your little gun."
Suddenly, the massive twelve-foot demon let out a guttural, vibrating chant. A blinding, neon-green aura violently erupted around the stump of its severed arm.
In a fraction of a second, muscle, bone, and leathery skin rapidly stitched themselves back together. A brand-new, razor-sharp claw completely regenerated. The monster flexed its new hand, letting out a terrifying roar.
The swordsman's eyes widened in sheer panic. "What the fuck?! It knows high-level healing spells?!"
Before the swordsman could even swing his blade, the monster completely vanished.
It didn't run. It literally teleported.
In a single millisecond, the massive demon materialized directly behind Malesh. With terrifying, brutal force, the monster thrust its jagged, twelve-foot longsword directly into the center of Malesh's back.
CRASH!
Instead of piercing Malesh's flesh and cutting him in half, the massive, magical longsword violently shattered. The impact sounded like a bomb going off inside a glass factory. Thousands of jagged, razor-sharp metallic shards exploded outward, raining harmlessly onto the asphalt.
The swordsman's jaw literally unhinged. He stared at Malesh's unbroken, tailored suit jacket in absolute, reality-breaking shock.
"What the fuck just happened?!" the swordsman screamed, his brain completely failing to process the physics. "Is this guy just a normal guy?! That blade was forged in the abyss, and it just shattered into pieces like literal glass! How could that even be physically possible?!"
Malesh slowly turned his head, completely ignoring the towering demon standing right behind him. He looked directly at the swordsman, his expression instantly shifting into the slick, highly polished persona of a corporate advertiser.
"And that is exactly why you should use a sword that is made out of premium Kavilson Steel," Malesh pitched smoothly, speaking like he was starring in a television commercial. "Not local steel. Kavilson Steel produces the absolute best iron and steel alloys in the entire world. Local swords with inferior tensile strength should not even be allowed on the market."
Malesh adjusted his ruined dragon tie with one hand, still casually holding Silvisa with the other.
"And that is exactly why I was telling you that a gun is much better," Malesh lectured calmly. "Because it uses our original, authentic Kavilson Steel. Unlike this pathetic car," he added, gesturing to the split SUV. "Yeah, I think so, the manufacturers mixed some cheap local steel with the Kavilson Steel on the assembly line. That is the only logical reason why this car broke up into two pieces."